He would know the safety measures and escape routes of the Waverley Building. He would know who was helping Dutch. And he would find out that he has a son.
As much as Nate pisses me off sometimes, he’s like the annoying little brother you can’t help but have affection for. I couldn’t allow that information to come from my people.
Once they were gone, I called in seven more, some who were already in the area, others from as far as New Mexico and California. I called in the best, the ones most likely to make it through torture, or the ones most proficient in spy work.
Then, unbeknownst to the others, I called in two more of my people. I gave them the barest of information to protect Dutch and the others as best I could. I set them up in an apartment across the street from the safe house Ryan provided for us. Their instructions? To watch and wait. If I didn’t call in with a code every day, they were to remain hidden, watching the safe house.
I gave them pictures of Ryan, Kian, and Jase, and instructed them that should I not make the coded calls, to watch for these men to come to the safe house. If they did, to make themselves known to them.
I had believed I had thought of everything. A backup plan for backup plans. And when Vincenzo placed that award, I jumped at the opening. Jeremy, against his better judgment, reluctantly agreed to turn me in to Vincenzo. He would take the money and disappear for a week, then make his way to the Charon Group to let them know what was happening.
And therein lies the fatal mistake I made.
I didn’t predict that Vincenzo would kill Jeremy. Vincenzo often comes across as one of those old-fashioned mafia types. I’ve wondered a time or two if he watchedThe Godfatherone too many times growing up. He likes to say his word is his bond, and I should have known better. Narcissists are the ultimate liars, changing their masks and personalities when it suits them. Deep inside, Vincenzo believes he is honest, loyal, and trustworthy. He believes he is smarter, more talented, and better in every way than everyone else. Nothing can change his mind—this is what he has convinced himself is true.
When he goes against these self-proclaimed truths, he does so by blaming others, so is therefore not going against his core beliefs, but was forced to by someone else’s actions.
When he was tying me to his bed, his chest puffed out with pride, Vincenzo informed me how he had killed the man that turned me in.
“I can’t stand rats,” he tells me, tightening the rope around my wrist painfully. “Why does no one value loyalty anymore? Your own man turned you in for a measly million dollars.”
Nausea sours my stomach, my heart fluttering in terror.
“I killed him,” he continues, stopping to peer into my eyes. I keep my face impassive, knowing I dare not show any emotion. I can’t let Jeremy’s death be in vain; one flicker of anger or sadness would give away the ruse.
“Good,” I force myself to reply. “He deserved it for betraying me.” My heart shatters at the false words, but I shut it out. I’ll find another time to grieve, one day soon. Today, I have to get through this.
Vincenzo gives me a chilling smile before reaching out to twist my nipple painfully. I don’t react, just let him do what he wants. It’s nothing I haven’t survived before, and I will do so again.
Glancing over at my silent cellmate, I let out a sigh. She sits on the lone cot, her dark head lowered to her knees, rocking back and forth. The others are just as quiet, although I do catch the occasional whispered conversation. How these women survive down here is a miracle. No natural light, showers once a week, two meals a day, and nothing to do but lose themselves in their minds.
I pray no one has been here long. It would take a special kind of strength to survive not going crazy here.
The sound of the door opening upstairs makes many of the women gasp as they try their hardest to squeeze themselves into the corners of their cells. Heavy footsteps tread on the wooden stairs, and I suck in a deep breath.
I stand as Vincenzo comes toward me, a smirk changing his handsome face into one anyone with any self-preservation would fear. Gritting my teeth, I straighten my shoulders and look him in the eye.
I don’t let him see my amusement when he hesitates for just a moment. There is a reason I’m feared across the world. Stories are told in mere whispers, many choosing to believe I’m nothing more than a myth.
Vincenzo will believe he’s holding all the power, simply because I let him have my body.
I’ve let him do everything he’s done so far.
He doesn’t know my plans.
He doesn’t know they’ll come for me.
And when they do, he will not be able to fathom the depths of pain he will suffer.
My own smirk grows across my face, my eyes sparkling with promise, which he would be wise to heed.
Chapter 48
Dutch
Raisingmyarmsabovemy head, I twist my hips, trying to relieve some of the tension from the day. Jase, Kian, and Cruz didn’t find anything in the apartments; it’s like The Duke and her team cleared everything out when they left as if they wouldn’t be coming back.
An uneasiness swirls through me at the thought but I refuse to believe The Duke would betray us. Under torture? Maybe. Surely everyone cracks at some point? We can’t say how long she’s been missing for sure, and knowing my father, he won’t go easy on her.
